Gnossiennes
by misssixty1
Summary: *Previously featured under my 2nd pen name, DMMA. Recently moved to this account.* After rescuing a young woman with Parkinson's, Rorscach develops an unlikely friendship with a young girl who is just as damaged, but can two broken souls save one another? Will Walter finally return?
1. Introduction

**A/N: I DO NOT own any part of **_**Wathcmen**_**. This chapter will be a bit short, seeing as how it's an introduction, compared to others if I do continue. For any classical music fans, the title is from Erik Satie's **_**Gnossiennes**_**. **_**Gnossiennes **_**No. 3 was my inspiration for this story, I would definitely recommend listening to it. Constructive criticism is **_**extremely **_**welcome! If I continue on with this story I'm definitely going to stick to the movie ending (something about that alien just didn't sit right with me). Anywho, let me know what you think, and enjoy! This chapter is a bit violent, and has a flashback rape scene (vague, but still a little graphic). *Previously featured under my other pen name, DMMA*  
**

**Introduction**

_**June 21st, 1982**_

"_But I remained to look at the crowd, and I saw a thing that I should be afraid, without more proof, only to tell, were it not that conscience reassures me, the good companion that emboldens man under the hauberk of feeling himself pure. I saw in truth, and still I seent to see it, a trunk without a head going along even as the others of the dismal flock were going. And it was holding the cut-off head by its hair, dangling in hand like a lantern. And it gazed on us, and said, "O me!" Of itself it was making for itself a lamp; and they were two in one, and one in two. How it can be He knows who so ordains. When it was right at the foot of the bridge, it lifted its arm high with the whole head, in order to approach its words to us, which were, "Now see the dire punishment, thou that, breathing, goest seeing the dead: see thou if any other is great as this! And that thou mayest carry news of me, know that I am Bertran de Born,[1] he that gave to the young king the ill encouragements. I made father and son rebellious to each other. Ahithophel did not more with Absalom and with David by his wicked goadings. Because I divided persons so united, I bear my brain, alas! divided from its source which is in this trunk. Thus retaliation is observed in me…."_

"_-Sing us a song, you're the Piano Man, sing us a song about love…"_

Holly Abraham looked up from the worn pages of her ancient copy of Dante's _Inferno_, as the strained sounds of Billy Joel's _Piano Man_ hit her ears.

Looking around for the source of the sound, her eyes and ears settled on a young man seated about a yard away on the grass, legs crossed with a guitar in his lap as he played.

His voice was rich and throaty, full of soul and misery. Squinting against the late-evening sunlight, she continued to observe him as people walked past, tossing coins into his open guitar-case.

The early summer air enveloped her in a pocket of haze and humidity, and Holly wiped a bead of sweat from her arched brow, feeling her sunglasses rub against her already-burned skin.

Beginning in April, New York City had found itself slave to record-breaking heat. The sweltering temperatures hit 70 in the morning, before steadily rising throughout the day without mercy. The humidity was the worst of it all, turning the bustling city into a slow-moving and soupy cocktail that seemed to slow down everyone in it.

As Holly's dress stuck to the bottom of her thighs, and she found herself gazing hungrily as she stared at the duck pond before her. Silently, she thought about how good it would feel to have the droplets of water drip down her skin, and wanted nothing more than to submerse herself in the murky waters, swimming with the ducks.

In pairs they moved together, bobbing for fish and sticking their tails in the air. Holly smiled, watching the sight with a child-like glee as she reminisced about the days growing up, where she and her mother would travel to the small pond up the street from her house and throw bread to the ducks.

Looking back down at her book, she once again submitted herself to the descriptions of Hell, described poignantly by Dante. After reading the book for the first time as a sophomore in high school, she fell in love with the philosopher's depth, and the emotion with which he wrote as he tried to meet again with his dead wife Beatrice.

Quacking ducks and cheerful chirps from sparrows pulled her immediately from the seven circles of Hell, and Holly soon found herself unable to concentrate.

Down the way, the young man was still singing. This time, he was singing Elton John's _Tiny Dancer_, and Holly found herself listening to his slightly-raspy voice, impressed by both his vocal quality and his guitar playing.

For a moment, her mind zoomed back to a day, the summer of her freshman year at Juilliard when she and a few classmates set up a string quarter in the park near the Great Lawn and played a slew of Beatles hits.

In bare-feet and a sundress, Holly could not remember having ever been happier, spending time doing the thing she loved the most with people she enjoyed.

How the times had changed.

Suddenly, the cheap digital watch around her right wrist began to sound off loudly, and she silenced it, quickly digging through the neon-pink backpack next to her.

Grabbing a bottle of pills, she unscrewed the cap, dumping two blue ovals into her right hand and quickly letting them fall into her mouth.

Swallowing them whole, she let the bottle fall back into her bag before digging around for a back of Marlboro Reds. The red and white carton fell into her hand with ease, and Holly pulled a slim cigarette free from the box and slid it between her lips, following quickly with a silver Zippo.

Inhaling the nicotine into her lungs, Holly stood up, shoving her book into her backpack before slinging it onto her back.

The day was so hot she wore nothing but sleeveless sundress, which revealed more than she wanted it to, but it was better than having giant sweat stains all over her back.

Making her way towards the guitarist, she hiked up the bag, covering the tattoos and scars that decorated her back.

On her left forearm was a beautifully scripted quote from Leonard Cohen's _Hallelujah_. Around her wrist, J.R.R. Tolkein's epic script from The One Ring. On her back, two large angel wings with a small cross between her shoulder blades. Holly's body was a walking canvass, which generally didn't go over well with members of the New York Philharmonic.

In the weeks before a big performance, she usually found herself splurging with money she didn't have on expensive foundation to cover up the tattoos for each performance. Just for the sake of being able to do what she loved.

Stopping in front of the guitarist, Holly dug through one of the pockets of her backpack before producing a five-dollar bill, silently calculating how much the small amount of cash would dent her budget.

Dropping it into the case below her, she set off in the opposite direction, making her way for the busy Manhattan streets.

As she walked, her stomach began to burn furiously as the Levodopa assaulted her empty stomach. Ignoring the pain, she made her way to the nearest subway station, taking in the beautiful sounds of the city.

A musical number was in progress. It started with an opening, the long and loud honk of a frustrated taxi-driver set in traffic, then moved into the first suite. A chorus of jackhammers and deafening construction sung in harmony, accompanied by the patter of thousands of footsteps hitting the ground at once. Then, a crescendo: a pigeon, screeching out just in time with the squealing breaks of another taxicab. The next passage began as the driver rolled down his window and began screaming in anger at the one in front of him.

Holly took it all in, looking around her beautiful city as she polluted the hazy air with her own smoke.

Dropping the cigarette butt to the ground, she stomped it out, feeling her stomach rumble wildly.

Quickly, she stopped at a pretzel-vendor and purchased a cheap and filling mixture of salt, butter, and soft dough. Shoving the treat into her mouth, she swallowed, eating quickly and praying she wouldn't throw it up before she could even get it into her stomach.

Coming upon a particularly crowded block, Holly swung around the railing of a staircase, ascending the concrete steps as she lowered herself into the cool underbelly of New York City.

The station was crowded, as dozens of New Yorkers made their way home for the day. After twenty minutes, she found herself on the platform, watching as the train flew through the tunnel and came to a screeching halt.

Rapidly stepping onto the silver bullet, she found a plastic orange seat and sat down, pulling out her copy of _Inferno _once more and flipping through the torn and yellowed pages.

"That any good?" came a voice.

Looking up, Holly found herself meeting the eyes of a stereotypical punk-rock teen, sitting diagonally from her.

He had a tall spiked Mohawk, dyed purple and several piercings that made Holly's tongue unconsciously graze the ring in her lip.

Sleeve-tattoos adorned his arms, along with a black Pink Floyd t-shirt and baggy pants.

"Um…yeah actually. One of my favorites." She answered curtly, before putting the book away and pulling out her diary as the train began to move.

Instead of inquiring further like Holly had expected him to, the young man turned his attention to the standing bodies on the train, before pulling out a Sony Walkman and placing headphones over his ears.

Holly flipped through used pages, before settling on an empty one about a third of the way through. She had kept a journal since she was a little girl, as a way to get out the things she could tell no one else.

Through all of school, she focused all of her time on music. She had friends yes, but she couldn't tell them about her hopes and dreams. After her parents died, she delved deeper into herself, and found that her diary had become her best friend.

Pulling out a purple pen, she bit the inside of her cheek, tonguing an open sore before going to work.

_6/21/82 _

_It always amazes me, how every person in this city can be so oblivious to the world around them. On my way home from work today, I saw an old lady fall on the pavement, and watched as thirty maybe forty people walked by. One helped. One. It baffles me to be honest. Maybe because I was born in a small town where everyone helped each other out. I always called myself a "city girl". I always thought that I was made for this life, but can I really be? Self-fulfilling, self-indulgent. The people I see frighten me. I feel like I'm living in an alien world. Even now, five years later, I still don't quite understand it. _

_Sunday will be the anniversary. Of mom and dad. I've been so busy that I've completely forgotten. It hasn't even felt like two years. _

_I haven't talked to Sarah in days now. Last time I checked, Aunt Jen said she was doing alright. Getting straight A's in school, doing really well in dance. I pray that she's not making the same mistakes I did. After all, I managed to get straight A's too, even despite what I was doing on my own time. _

_I'm in a weird mood today. I barely feel there. The shaking is starting again. I have to make a note to call the doctor. The problem is, I'm running out of money. Slinging coffee only pays so much, and the money I make from the orchestra goes to medicine and Sarah. It's funny. I make nearly $20,000 a year, and I'm living in a crummy apartment in the worst part of town. _

_The medicine is getting more expensive. It's this damn recession, but I really can't do without. The money I make is being saved for Sarah. Even if she gets a full-ride scholarship into school, I still have to send her money for other things, and Aunt Jen is struggling to pay the bills by herself since her husband died. I guess I am a little cheap too, but what's the harm in that? I'd rather hoard money then have to sell myself on the street for it. _

After careful thought, Holly put the pen back into her bag, returning to her book. The sticky seats were clinging to her skin, and she knew when she stood, there would be a large red mark on her thighs.

Cautiously, she tugged the skirt down, hiding more than just red marks. The long scars on her inner thighs would be visible if she moved the wrong way.

Looking up at the glass window across from her seat, she caught a view of herself.

Once upon a time, she had been beautiful. Over the years though, a combination of stress, the disease, and poor diet had taken hold of that beauty, turning her into someone she barely even recognized.

After months of frustration with her constantly shedding hair, she decided to start anew, chopping it all off. Her black locks now fell into edgy layers that hugged her face and tapered in the back. The pixie-cut really did do justice for the shape of her face, although she no longer had long tresses to hide behind.

She had wide eyes, a chocolate brown color that was barely noticeable save for her thick and full eyelashes, a long nose, slightly crooked, and full lips, which often sat in a pout whenever she was thinking.

Due to photosensitivity from various medications coupled with already-sensitive skin, her usually pink cheeks were tinged bright red, burning from merely a few hours exposure to the sun. Carmel colored skin had been provided from a Jewish father and an African-American mother, and a childhood of gymnastics and dance left her with a sleek body, only disturbed by natural curves. Wide hips and slim thighs were accompanied by full breasts and a round but firm backside, however, after months of living an unhealthy lifestyle consisting of tobacco, grilled cheese sandwiches, and hard liquor, Holly was losing the prized figure she once paraded around.

By no means was she large, but the several pounds of weight gain sat on her arms and tummy uncomfortably. It was not the Holly she was used to seeing when she looked in the mirror.

Her appearance itself was a paradox of sorts. She constantly wore floral prints and girly clothing that made her look innocent, despite the tattoos on her body and the ring in her lip. During high school, many wondered exactly what group she was trying to fit in, but in all honesty, she was just being herself.

Looking up as the train came to a halt Holly looked at her watch, wondering why the trip had taken so long before realizing she had missed her stop. Hurrying off the large vehicle quickly, she checked a nearby map to find her location, and then set off for home.

The moment she was above-ground, the momentary sanctuary the subway station had given against the heat was gone, and Holly walked slowly through the grimy streets.

It was nearly eight now, and the sun would be setting soon. Already, dark clouds were rolling in, promising a nighttime thunder storm that would do nothing to stem the heat.

The mile it took to walk to her apartment took longer than it ever would given the sweltering temperatures. As Holly approached her shabby apartment building, she noticed a group of young men congregated around the entrance.

The sight was not really uncommon. She lived in a seedy place of town, where seedy things took place. Still, the cash in her backpack sang out in alarm, and she clutched her things tightly, feeling her heartbeat suddenly quicken in her chest.

Reaching the crowd, she realized they were blocking the building entrance, and with all the strength she could muster, Holly muttered a small "excuse me," before gently trying to push her way through the group.

The gang of young men all wore clothing with various items of yellow.

_Some gang color_. She thought to herself as she moved slowly through the crowd.

"Hey there Holly!"

Freezing, Holly felt her heartbeat stop momentarily as the voice shot icy tendrils of panic and fear through her body.

"_Listen, the guys just want to hang out with you alright? Everything is fine, I promise. Don't be scared. They're really nice guys."_

Looking up, at the top of the steps, Holly found herself looking into the icy green eyes of her ex-boyfriend Danny.

"_Danny I don't want to do this. You should see the way Roach looks at me. I'm scared."_

"_Hol, they just want a girl to keep them company. I promise you, nothing is going to happen. I won't let anything happen. Alright?"_

_Leaning in, he kissed her forehead in reassurance. _

"Danny." She said, feeling the scars on her legs and back throb momentarily.

_She walked into the living room, where six of the guys were congregated around a small television. The vinegary stench of heroin hung in the air, and Holly's blood ran cold as 12 sets of eyes all looked at her._

Danny walked down the stairs, a yellow strip tied around his bicep. Since the last time she saw him, he had let his hair grow out, so now the black greasy mess fell to his chin. As she stared at him, disgust and hatred welled up inside of her, and she wondered what she ever saw in him.

"_Hi guys." She said gingerly, standing in the center of the room. Two of the guys, one named Luis and the other Almie, scooted over, making way for her on the couch. _

_Sitting down, Holly found herself on their laps and fought the discomfort as the exposed skin of her legs rubbed against their bodies._

"Woah, what's with the haircut? You look like a dyke!" he exclaimed, fingering a lock of her choppy hair and Holly flinched under his touch.

"I like it short." She said, in almost a whisper before looking up and meeting those cold green eyes.

"_Hey there Miss Holly." Almie said. Ironically, he was Hispanic and Luis was not. Suddenly, Holly blinked, only to find her vision slightly blurred. She felt funny. She felt strange. She felt…drugged. _

"_Danny." She murmured, her head nodding to the side as her eyelids dropped. Opening them, she blinked rapidly and felt herself sinking into the couch. _

"You're lucky you got that rack and that ass. You're still sexy. So, what you up to?"

Immediately his tone set off warning bells in her head. He wanted something.

"What do you want?" she blurted, and watched as his face went from amused to slightly irritated.

"Well, guess we're skipping the pleasantries. I need a place to crash tonight. Me and a few of the guys."

_She felt a hand on her thigh, and looked over to find Almie's face close to hers. Leaning in, he pressed his lips against her own forcefully, and Holly could hear the cheers from some of the other guys in the room. _

"_No." she said weakly, turning her head away. Fighting the haze, she tried to stand up, only to stumble and fall to the ground. _

_Several of the guys laughed, and Holly could focus on nothing but the fuzzy carpet on her face, stained with crumbs, spilled beer, and semen. _

"_Now where you going baby?" Luis suddenly said, grabbing her and pulling her back onto the couch. This time, she was on her stomach, laying across Almie's lap. _

"_Danny." She cried out weakly, only to hear a few of the guys laugh. _

"_Danny ain't coming baby." Roach said from somewhere in the room._

"I barely have enough room for the cat and myself. There's no way in hell that you guys will be able to fit." Holly said quickly, glad she had an honest excuse, but Danny stepped forward immediately.

"You've got a whole room full of your instruments and shit. You've got a living room, a bathroom with a tub. There's plenty of space."

_Her shorts were pulled roughly and unceremoniously down her legs, along with her underwear. Again, she tried to sit up only to find herself forced back down. _

_Almie quickly unbuttoned and zipped his jeans, and Holly gasped, screaming Danny's name in choked cries. _

"_DANNY! DANNY! PLEASE HELP ME DANNY! DANNY!"_

"No." she shook her head resolutely, praying that her weakness didn't show. Danny leaned forward, grabbing her bicep tightly.

"We need a place to stay Holly."

"And I said no. N-O. You deaf or just stupid?"

She had no idea where the insult came from, and immediately, wished she could take it back. Grabbing her by the straps of her backpack, Danny threw her back so hard and reeled and fell to the ground.

_She gagged as semen filled her mouth, listening to the cheers and hollers around the room. Suddenly, she was rolled on her back and looked up in pure horror as one of Danny's friends named Che pulled out a silver knife. _

_Immediately, everything stopped as she laid eyes on the knife. Even in her drugged state, she knew whose it belonged to. She could see the inscription on the handle, the delicate etching on the blade. _

_Leaning down, Che put a hand on her belly before pressing the knife into her skin. Pain raged through her body, and Holly screamed loudly as he dragged the blade across her flesh. _

Pulling herself up off the ground, Holly looked down at her hands. The skin of her palms was scraped clean off from her fall, and they stung wildly as she struggled to keep the tears from flowing.

"Where's your keys?" Danny asked coldly, all hint of amusement gone from his voice.

"Leave me alone!" she screamed in reply, spitting at him.

Several of the guys stepped away, as though not wanting to be near her when she got it. And as Danny's face clouded over with rage, she understood why. Rage comparable to the day she had called the cops.

"Stupid cunt!" he screamed, lunging forward and sinking his fist into her jaw.

_She screamed at the top of her lungs, feeling the tremors wrack her body as she knife made its way around the skin of her legs. She couldn't move. She couldn't do anything but lay there and let it happen. She was weak. _

"FUCK YOU!" Holly screamed and sobbed at the same time. Again, she met another fist, this time to the gut.

Immediately, vomit soared up her esophagus and she leaned over, heaving wildly as feeling her throat burn.

Several of the guys laughed, and she heard Roach's distinct cackle.

_Opening her eyes, Holly found herself in an empty room. She was cold, her body assaulted and left without regard._

_Standing up, she fell to the ground immediately, feeling a searing pain between her legs. The kind of pain that could have only been brought about by having six guys take turns._

Then, one fist became many, and Holly found herself succumbing to Danny's fury as he pummeled her mercilessly. She screamed for help, begged, and heard someone scream from somewhere, perhaps an apartment window "LEAVE HER ALONE!".

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH OR I'LL GIVE YOU A SLUG!" one of the guys replied in return, and all objection ceased.

* * *

Shrill cries met Rorschach's ears, and he swung from the alleyway, finding the source of the noise.

His gloves were still bloody from his last kill, and he pondered what he may find. Attempted rape? Battery? Theft?

Coming through another alley, he watched across the street as a group of guys huddled around someone screaming in pain. In the apartment complex behind them, several ghostly faces peered out the windows, watching. Watching, and not doing anything.

Fury coursed through the masked vigilante's veins, and once more, his disdain for the human race peaked.

_Sitting and watching. Vile. Self-fulfilling. Cowards. Is this how people saw Genovese? Did they stand in mouth of alleyway inactive? _

The men were all distracted, and Rorschach snuck across the street with ease, using his fists first, before using weapons second.

He took down the first with ease. An Asian man who looked as though he once belonged with the Knots. Grabbing his head, Rorschach snapped his neck quickly, letting him crumple to the ground.

_Too quick. Undeserving of quick death. But must act quickly. Screams are getting louder._

One of the guys turned around, opening his mouth, and immediately Rorschach set forth to silencing him.

* * *

"Dan, come on! Dan!" Roach screamed, pulling Danny off of Holly.

She willed air into her lungs, coughing wildly as the oxygen raced into her body. Her throat screamed in pain, and for a moment, she foolishly wondered if he had broken her neck.

"What the fuck? Let go of me man!"

"That psychopath Rorschach is-AHHH!"

His words were cut short with a scream, and Holly watched in both horror and awe as the masked avenger grabbed Roach, plunging a knife right through his throat.

His body fell to the ground, and Danny grabbed Holly, putting a knife to her neck and standing behind her.

"Come and get me you fucking faggot. I'll slit her fucking throat."

Holly whimpered, putting her hands on Danny's arm.

"Danny, please. Please, don't do this. Think about-"

"Shutup!" he screamed, letting the point of the knife dig into her throat.

Her already-bruised skin screamed in protest, and Holly felt large tears slide down her face. She was weak. She was pathetic. And she was going to die. Here. On this disgusting and gritty street.

She watched as Rorschach tilted his head, as if contemplating whether or not to simply sacrifice Holly then go after Danny.

"Please. Please. Make him let me go. I haven't done anything wrong." She pleaded, watching as the inkblots on the vigilante's mask shifted quickly.

"'Haven't done anything wrong?' You may have played innocent once when you called the cops on me, but not to this guy. If he kills me, you're going down too. You forget about selling to those kids you went to that fancy school with for me? You forget about snorting that junk?"

Holly closed her eyes as his words hit her like a battering ram. Rorschach simply stared at her, and although Holly couldn't see his face, she could feel his glare of contempt.

Quickly pulling a gun from his pocket, Danny pulled back the hammer, pointing at Holly's would-be savior.

"Fucking freak." He muttered, before firing off a shot, so close to Holly's ear that the blast deafened her.

Rorschach was fast, moving swiftly from the path of the flying object, but not fast enough. It lodged itself into his left shoulder, although if he hadn't moved so quickly, he might have been hit in the heart.

Falling backwards, the masked vigilante gripped the wound, and Danny seized the opportunity to toss Holly to the ground.

Leaning down, he threw one last punch that was so disorienting she felt she was swimming for a moment.

Closing her eyes, she spat blood, coughing as she wheezed. Her hands began to shake wildly, and she moaned on the ground, her entire body on fire.

The sound of sirens caught her attention and she looked up. Someone had called the cops.

Looking around, she found that Danny and any living comrades had scattered. All that remained was Rorschach who staggered and leaned against the frame of Holly's building, pressing his hand to his shoulder.

Blood streamed over his glove from the wound, and even from where Holly was standing, it didn't look too good. By no means did she have any real medical experience. She had given a few of Danny's friends stitches, but that was about the extent of it.

Walking over to him, she put an arm around his shoulder, pulling him up the steps and into her building.

At first he walked with her freely, but then seemed to have some sort of realization and shrunk away from her, yanking himself from her grip.

"The cops are coming. Please, let me help you." She croaked.

He had saved her, whether he wanted to or not, and by simply human nature, she could not throw him to the dogs.

As she stood next to him, she was immediately overwhelmed by his odor, a mixture of stale sweat, dried blood, and too much cologne. Unintentionally, she wrinkled her nose at the stench, almost gagging. Then again, she had smelled much worse.

The thought of old vomit entered her nose, and she shoved it away, focusing her attention on the man before her.

"Don't need your help." He growled, pulling away from her, although as he did, he swayed dangerously, falling against the wall.

As the sirens grew louder, Holly bent down and grabbed him with all the strength she could muster, holding him up. As she did, he suddenly grew heavy in her arms and she realized he had passed out.

She was surprised how much shorter he was than she, but seemed to have a muscular build.

"Here, I've got him." Came a voice, and Holly looked up to find the man who lived across from her, Mr. James. Mr. James was a divorced father of two who worked for the U.S. Postal Service. He had welcomed her on her first day at the apartment complex, and the two frequently ran into one another at their mailboxes.

For all his kindness, Holly's pain was a reminder that he had left her out there, and she simply glared.

"So now you help?" she croaked.

He flushed, and his shame did nothing to abate her anger. Wordlessly, he picked up Rorschach, slinging him around his shoulders like a paper doll, and Holly forgot her anger, marveling at his strength.

Onto the elevator they went, then they rode up to her fifth floor apartment. Mr. James helped carry Rorschach to Holly's apartment, where she opened her door, immediately greeted by a black cat with big blue eyes.

"Move Socks." She muttered, and the cat stepped to the side, watching curiously as Mr. James carried Rorschach in.

He set the man on Holly's battered living room couch, and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.

"I'll go get some towels." He announced, rushing from the room as if saving the masked hero's life could make up for almost letting Holly lose hers.

Walking over to him, she looked down upon his face, constantly shifting and changing. Letting a hand touch the fabric lightly, she dragged her fingers against it, feeling the smooth surface beneath her tips.

He had saved her, and she had saved him.


	2. Scene

**A/N: I DO NOT own **_**Watchmen**_**, or any pieces of literature, music, or media that appear in this chapter. Glad to see there's interest! Even if it's one person. Hopefully I'll pick up some more readers along the way, because I have a lot of plans for this story. Let me know what you think!**

**Scene**

_**June 22nd, 1982**_

"…_She's always been a nice girl, very kind, very pleasant. I always saw her when she got her mail. Would always say 'good afternoon' and smile at me. Nice girl…"_

"…_Well I don't know much about her, but I do know a few months after she moved in, real bad kind started hanging around. Guy that was here tonight. Him and his group would hang outside, harass passerby. I called the cops twice. Bastards never did a thing…no offense to you sir…"_

"…_She is a…a…how do you say…..music player, some sort. My husband talk about her playing up the stairs. We can hear the noise, but is very beautiful. She is talented young lady…"_

"…_Never late on the rent. Ever. And she's got some sort of medical problem. Parkinson's I think. When she first moved in here, I thought she was a junkie, way she was lookin' around and shakin' and all that. I heard the commotion outside and yelled for that hoodlum guy of hers to stop. Someone threatens me with a gun!..."_

Steven Fine looked down at the scribbled notes in his notepad, running a hand through his thick-blonde hair before letting out a sigh, turning to his partner.

"Looks to me like this case is closed Joe. Everyone we interviewed tonight said that Rorschach was nowhere to be seen. Either they're all lying, or he really wasn't there."

Biting his lip, he looked over to his partner Joe who sat hunched at his desk. As the man looked up to him, his face conveyed every emotion he was thinking at the moment, and Steven knew that the case was far from being closed. He could tell, before Joe even spoke the words that he thought that the neighbors were covering for Rorschach. Hell, they hadn't even talked to the girl.

Steven personally wanted the whole thing to be over with. If these people wanted to cover for the lunatic, fine. Why waste his hours? But Joe had to do everything "by-the-book", and while Steven wanted nothing more than to forget it and move on, he knew that would not be the case.

"Look…none of this makes sense. They're all saying that someone came off the street, dispatched of how many guys, then left without a trace? My question is why are they covering for him? The very man we're trying to protect them from? You could see it in their eyes, they were lying. The question is, _why_?"

"Well, we've still got to talk to the girl. What's her name, Holly? We got anything on her?" Steven asked.

Joe shook his head, turning to his partner.

"Name sounds familiar though, like I've heard it from somewhere. If she's got Parkinson's there's gotta be a ton of medical records. What time is it?"

Steven checked his watch tiredly, feeling his eyes droop just as he spoke the words aloud.

"Four-thirty."

Joe nodded, standing up from his desk.

"Should we go home then?" he asked.

"Well we've been here for two hours now, I'd say so. We can interview the girl tomorrow. I'll see you in a few hours."

The detectives made their way through the squad room, stepping out into the sticky New York night. Still, the temperatures were at an abnormal streak, leaving no mercy even in the early morning.

Beneath the black sky, traffic continued to rage. The city never truly slept.

Steven Fine and Joe Bourquin waved goodbye to each other, before making their way back to their respectable homes. They both had a long day in front of them.

* * *

_**Several hours earlier**_

Holly pulled off her backpack, tossing it onto the ground and leaning down to adjust her unconscious hero as he lay dead to the world on her couch.

She held his head, watching as his hat tumbled off onto the carpeted floor. Setting him gingerly on his back, she helped prop his head up on the armrest of the couch, and tried to assess the situation in her mind.

She had no idea just how deep the bullet was, or if it had hit something vital. It was apparent he was losing a lot of blood, but just how much, she could not determine. She had no more medical experience than the basics. The problem was, there was no one she could go to. Most of the people she worked with were middle-aged, and lived on the Upper East Side. Getting to them would be a problem, and when she did, she had no doubt in her mind they would turn him in.

Getting down onto the floor, Holly grabbed a knot in Rorschach's coat, wondering how he wore the thing in such sweltering temperature. Loosening it, she began to undo the buttons.

As she did so, immediately she was met with a thick aroma which seemed to radiate off the masked man's very being. Turning her head slightly, she inhaled, taking in the odor of bad cologne and stale sweat.

Beside her, Mr. James balked noticeably, wrinkling his nose in disgust before verbally expressing his horror.

"Jesus he stinks. You'd think a super-hero would shower more often." He spat.

Holly ignored him, although she silently shared the same thought. However as she momentarily thought back to the past few years, she had certainly smelled worse. The man's smell was nothing compared to the absolutely horrid stench of the infected pus-leaking arm of a heroin addict. Or a dead hooker haphazardly left in a dumpster for nearly a week against the heat. Yes, she had smelled much worse.

"Can you take off his shoes for me?" she asked quietly, as she removed a dingy scarf from around his neck. Letting it fall to the ground, she gazed in awe at the amount of clothing he wore. It was a miracle that the man hadn't fallen dead from heatstroke yet.

Off came his shoes and socks, along with the purple-pinstriped suit-jacket that covered his torso. The hardest part had to be getting the clothing off of his arms, without disturbing the wound too much.

Finally, she managed to get down to a white wife-beater. Carefully, she peeled off the thin shirt gingerly, and found herself gazing down at the spattered freckles which decorated the masked-man's muscular frame.

She was indeed shocked, at just how small he was in person. She herself was only 5'6'', and she was certain he was shorter than her. He was extremely well muscled though, and for a moment, all she wanted to do was let her fingers wander beneath the fabric of his mask and rip it off, gazing upon the face she had been taught to fear for so long.

Mr. James seemed to share her silent sentiments, and she nearly jumped, forgetting his presence as he spoke.

"Should we take it off? We can put it back on he'll never know." He said, kneeling down beside her.

Holly cocked her head to the side, wondering just what she might find. Indeed, the idea intrigued her. Here, laying on her living room couch, was the most-wanted man in New York. A man who had inspired fear and terror in the hearts of many. Holly knew the stories. He would save people, only to have them running in the opposite direction when they realized it was him. Who was the face behind the mask?

_"Look! You want to see! See! Look at Erik`s face! Now you know the face of the voice! Well, are you satisfied?"_

The words careened through her head, and in an instant, Holly found herself thinking of her beloved novel _The Phantom of the Opera_, and silently wondered…would she be satisfied?

_Christine yearned and yearned to look upon Erik's face, but when she did, she was horrified by what she saw. Was Christine Daaé truly satisfied? What if I look upon this man's face? Do I really want to see what is behind the mask? Better yet, do I have a right to see?_

She played with the question for a moment, wondering just if she had the right to reveal the identity he had worked so hard to get a secret. Who was she, to unveil the identity of a man who went through such great lengths to keep his face a secret?

_No Erik, I will not unmask you._ She thought resolutely, before standing up, and ignoring the screaming pain in her limbs.

"We have no right to do that to him. Don't touch the mask." She finally said, before sitting down upon the edge of the couch and leaning over to look at the wound.

From what Holly could see, the bullet did not appear to have gone too deep. Pressing her fingertips to the wound gently, she pulled at the skin, looking directly into the hole and glancing upon a glint of silver. Against all odds, there was a possibility she might actually be able to help him.

Turning to her neighbor, she quickly thanked him for his help before dismissing him.

"…Are you sure? You got pretty beat up too, and if he wakes up…" he trailed off, glancing at Rorschach.

Even Holly felt uneasy at the words. What would happen if he _did _awaken? What would he do to her?

Sighing, she simply shrugged, looking at her neighbor through sad eyes.

"Well…I'm sure he'll just be grateful." She managed to squeak, in a voice that fooled absolutely no one, not even herself. All she could really do was pray that he wasn't a psychopath like everyone said he was.

After a couple minutes of going back and forth, Mr. James left, leaving Holly all alone with the most dangerous man she had ever come across. Standing up, she left the room, walking down the hall to her bedroom and stepping into the lived-in chamber.

Walking to her dresser, Holly threw open her underwear drawer, sorting through piles of frilly undergarments before glancing upon the gleaming silver weapon buried inside.

Grasping hold of the gun, she pulled it from the drawer, feeling its weight in her hand. Danny had gotten it for her, and she had never quite been able to part for it, more for safety reasons than sentimental.

She had shot it a few times, and cleaned it once or twice. Checking the magazine, she made sure it was loaded before tucking it into the waistband of her panties, just for comfort. Something told her she would be safe, but just in case she wasn't…

Exiting the room, Holly quickly went into the bathroom, throwing open the cabinet above the sink. Digging through cans of hairspray and bottles of lotion, she grabbed some peroxide, a first-aid kit, and a small plastic sewing kit that she had bought God knew how many years back.

Taking the things, she carried them back into the living room, relieved to see that Rorschach had not moved.

Sitting down on the carpet beside him, she noticed drops of blood, and sighed, making a mental note to clean up once she had finished with him.

_Step one: remove the bullet._ She silently thought to herself.

Biting her lip, Holly stood and bounded back to the bathroom, grabbing a wet washcloth and a pair of tweezers. Making her way back into the living room, she found that Rorschach had begun to stir, and felt panic well up inside of her.

Soft murmurs escaped his lips from beneath the mask, and Holly's eyes widened, wondering what to do. His head moved slightly, and without thinking, she stood up and pulled the gun out before bringing the butt down against his head.

Immediately he fell still, and Holly froze, looking down at the gun, as she realized what she had just done.

"Damn it!" she screamed, sinking to her feet and leaning against his body, resting her head on his knee.

"Shit I can't do this. I'm sorry." She muttered into his pants leg, closing her eyes tightly.

Grasping onto the fabric, she looked up at her savior, wondering what he would say if he was awake right now. She knew for certain that he would look down upon her with disgust and eyes so loathsome she would shrink back worthlessly.

She couldn't think. She couldn't concentrate. She needed something. Something….

And she remembered the small bag in her bedroom, sitting hidden beneath stacks of music and composition paper in her bedside. The small baggie that Danny had given her as a sample, to something much bigger.

"…_What's it like?" she asked, looking up at him as they sat in the empty diner. _

"_Baby it'll make you fly. It'll make you feel good. Heroin isn't like any other drug, it's special. It helps you concentrate. It makes you feel….on fire." He grinned, leaning forward and grabbing her hand. _

_Looking down, Holly thought about the bottle of pills in her purse. Would it be wise?_

"_Hey, I know you're messed up with that disease and everything, but I've done my research. Heroin could help you with that. No more shaking. Here, just a little try right here." He said, digging into his pocket and producing a dime-bag. Sliding it across the table, he handed it to Holly. _

_She glanced at it for a moment before scooping it up and depositing it into her purse, before returning to her milkshake. _

Digging through her nightstand, Holly located the small red bag inside and withdrew it, feeling the its powdery content between her fingers. Turning it over, she stood up and walked to the kitchen.

Nearly twenty minutes later, she re-emerged into the living room, with dilated pupils, a bright red track mark in her arm, and confidence that could shoot through the roof.

_Ironic, isn't it? Doing drugs so I can save a man who will probably kill me the minute he wakes up. _She mused as she knelt down.

After taking a minute to think over what she was going to do, Holly set to work, cleaning the wound and removing the bullet.

She smiled with pride and self-content as she removed the bullet with stable hands, dropping the small object that had caused so much damage to the ground. Cleaning the wound once more, Holly set to closing it up, hoping there would be no internal bleeding.

As she pulled the thread through his skin, she felt a slight tug in the fabric and wondered what it felt like. Finally knotting the thread, she covered up the wound with a patch of gauze and cleaned up the area.

It had seemed as though for once, good old Danny had been right about something.

* * *

"_Mom…..mom?"_

_Walter stood in the doorway of his home, watching as his mother violently clashed tongues with a man before his eyes. _

_Except he wasn't Walter, he was Rorschach. Looking down, he glanced at his leather gloves, feeling them creak softly and looked back up at his mother. _

"_Sylvia." He said this time, the childlike voice gone and replaced with a harsh growl. _

_She turned to him, and suddenly, she was dressed in a beautiful blue dress with an apron, hair pulled back and a smile on her face. _

"_Walter." She smiled, holding out her arms. _

_Rorschach went down hall to her, which was covered in artwork. Stepping into her arms, he fell into her embrace._

"_Honey I'm home!"_

_They both turned around as a large man with dark hair stepped through a door that had appeared out of nowhere, carrying a bouquet of flowers. He walked towards them, and Rorschach stared at the smiley-face pin on the label of his brown suit._

"_Oh Eddie you're home!" his mother cried, jumping into the man's arms and Rorschach felt the walls around him grow taller and taller as he shrunk to the floor. _

_Suddenly, he was small again, the size of a boy and Eddie leaned down, putting a hand on his shoulder. _

"_Hey there Walt. Think your mom will suck my dick for a dollar?"_

Rorschach awoke violently, roaring as the grin of The Comedian disappeared from his eyes.

Staring into the surrounding darkness, he gasped for air as a searing pain tore through his shoulder, jarring every bone in his body.

Before he could react, a door was thrown upon and he found himself staring into bright light with a squint. The lights came on, and Rorschach threw a hand up in front of his eyes as he was assaulted by the light.

"Is everything alright?"

The unfamiliarity of the voice struck him like an iron fist, causing Rorschach to freeze as his body tensed. Slowly, he turned to face the doorway, looking at the girl.

She was thin, standing about 5'6'' with short black hair. Rorschach stared at her, quickly analyzing her body. Her neck was thin. He could choke her easily enough, and she didn't seem to have much in the way of muscle. Rorschach was certain that he could incapacitate her with ease.

Suddenly, a small mass of black streaked between her legs and jumped onto the bed, climbing onto Rorschach's lap.

"He really seems to like you." The girl said, with a hollow voice colored with nervousness. Looking down at the cat, Rorschach gazed into its large blue eyes. It had four white paws and mewed innocently from his lap as it placed its head beneath his hand, trying to coax a stroke.

Ignoring the animal, Rorschach looked back at the girl. She was tapping her fingers against the doorframe with another hand behind her back. Rorschach stared at her, before throwing back the covers and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

Immediately, his legs were hit with cold air and he looked down in horror to find that he wore nothing but a pair of dingy white boxers. Grabbing the sheet, he quickly covered himself, looking up at the girl as his body brimmed with rage.

"My clothes." He managed to choke out, clutching the sheets tightly with his fists.

"Oh…yeah." The girl said before disappearing.

She returned but a minute later with his things, folded neatly in a pile. Stepping into the room timidly, she walked over to him and set them down.

Rorschach snatched them from her with a growl, before waiting for her to leave. When she simply stood there, his fury surged once more.

"Leave!" he screamed, and watched as her eyes widened in the mixture of horror he knew so well.

She turned and rushed from the room, closing the door behind her.

As quickly as he could, Rorschach pulled his things on, feeling his hands shake wildly. With each item he felt against his skin, he was met with the delicate aroma of jasmine and lavender. She had washed his clothes. She had taken and touched his things, then set to washing them. All while he was unconscious.

Putting on his hat, Rorschach felt the wound in his shoulder scream as he made his way to the window. Throwing it open, he glanced down and flinched as he judged the distance.

The apartment was at least five stories up. There was no way he could jump without breaking something.

"W-what are you doing?" came a voice.

Rorschach spun around to find her, intruding once more. She scratched one of her arms, and he jumped down from the windowsill and pushed past her.

"Let me out." He muttered, stepping out into the hall and spotting the door immediately. He set for it, brimming with anger.

"Wait…your shoulder wound. It needs to be cleaned properly!" he felt a hand clamp around his wrist and turned around, yanking himself from her grip.

She backed away in terror, and Rorschach glanced at her arm. It was so noticeable it screamed. A small hole, a track mark. She was a junkie.

Rorschach felt his lip curl in disgust. She had touched him, had fingered his clothes in her hands. Hands that had mingled with the worst of sorts. She was the very vermin he was trying to rid the streets of.

And now, he could see why she had done it. She had saved his life, and he "owed" her. He was "indebted". She had taken his injury and used it as a crutch to continue living her pathetic lifestyle.

And he had let it happen. He, Rorschach, had let himself fall unconscious into her arms. How many times had she held men like that? How many times had she offered her body to support her drug habit.

Without a word he turned around, and headed towards the door. Without effort he unlocked it, throwing it open.

And then, he was gone.

* * *

"Well whoever she was, she did a pretty good job stitching you up."

Daniel Dreiberg watched as Rorschach snarled against the words. Stepping away from the man, he let Rorschach get re-dressed.

"Was a junkie." Rorschach replied, buttoning up his trenchcoat.

Daniel sighed, adjusting his glasses as he looked at Rorschach. Personally, he had to hand it to whoever had fixed him up. She had put up with him after all, even if he was unconscious. She had taken her own time to clean and stitch him up, and did quite a good job of it. Junkie or not, she had done a good thing.

But Daniel knew that Rorschach didn't see it that way. Everything was black and white. There was no such thing as a former drug addict, there was only a drug addict. A woman who sold her body to feed her kids was still a prostitute. He saw wrong as wrong, no matter what the situation.

"Well she could have left you there for the police." Dan shrugged.

"Don't justify." Rorschach growled, spinning around to face Daniel with anger he hadn't seen in a long time.

"I don't understand why you're so upset about this. She saved your life." Daniel said incredulously.

"She used my life as a way to insure her own." Rorschach replied, although from the tone of his voice, Daniel saw right through the poorly-formulated excuse.

It was the fact that she had saved him. Someone had saved Rorschach. Someone had made him the very thing he despised: someone to be taken care of.

It was laughable, and Daniel couldn't help but contain a grin, even as he picked up the unmistakable scent of fabric softener. Daniel wished he could have met the girl and given her a clap on the back.

"Something funny?" Rorschach growled, picking a fight.

"Nope, nothing at all. You want to come up for a bit?"

"No." the masked man replied, before stepping past Dan.

Dropping down onto the tracks Archie followed out into the world, Rorschach disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel. Daniel looked after him, standing long after his old partner was gone.


	3. Waltz (Tempo di Valse)

**A/N: I DO NOT own **_**Watchmen. **_**Well, it's been awhile. I lost my flashdrive about two months ago and haven't seen it since, containing every last word I had written . It can be noted that I saved this story on my flashdrive then proceeded to take it down from my second account so that I could post it here, so, looks like I'll be doing a little rewriting. I was reading the first two chapters and I really like where this story is going to go, I hope I can get some more interest. Enjoy the new chapter three!**

**Waltz (Tempo di valse)**

_**June 24**__**th**__**, 1982**_

Holly glanced up from the newspaper crossword puzzle she had been engulfed in as someone slammed a heavy glass on the table in front of her.

Staring at the glass, she observed the cold frothy mixture of ice cream and milk, topped with whipped cream and a luscious maraschino cherry.

"I didn't order this." She commented in confusion, looking up at the petite blonde waitress who couldn't have been more than sixteen of so.

"It's from one of the guys in the back." The waitress replied, blowing a bubble with her gum then taking Holly's empty plate and departing.

Holly stared at the frozen drink then looked around, her eyes making their way to the open window kitchen.

Sure enough, a young gentleman with dark brown hair tucked beneath a bandana stared at her from the kitchen window, before offering the smallest of grins as their eyes met.

Holly replied with a small smile, nodding In acknowledgement then leaning forward and taking a sip of her creamy milkshake just for show. The vanilla mixture rushed down her throat sending chills throughout her body and raising tiny pebbles of gooseflesh and erect hair upon her arms.

With the smallest of smiles, she gave a thumbs up in appreciation of the drink and watched as he turned back to his work at the grill.

Turning back to her crossword puzzle, Holly finished it along with her milkshake before gathering her things and stepping out into the night. Still, the heat was sweltering even as the evening sun was masked beneath ominous rainclouds which threatened to burst at any minute.

Glancing up as several light sprinkles hit the pavement, Holly ducked back into the diner and looked around for a moment as she considered what to do.

"Need something else?"

Holly glanced up as the blonde waitress she had seen stood up from an empty booth and extinguished a cigarette, clearly on a break.

"When does that guy get off? The one with the banda-"

"Tony. His name is Tony. And he gets off at seven." The girl replied, tilting her head to the side with no discernible emotion on her face. Holly glanced at her for a moment before giving a small uncomfortable wave of thanks and departing the diner once more, leaning against the wall and fishing around her bag for a cigarette.

Lighting up she leaned against the brick façade of the building, glancing up as the sky darkened ominously, promising rain. Peering at her watch she tried to decide whether to head home or stay and wait for this Tony. Though in truth, what good could come from it? Sure he was a cute boy, but in her experience she didn't quite know what a healthy relationship was. Rape, drugs, emotional and physical abuse, cheating. Each of these things made their way into her relationships in the past. Holly was unsure if she could even trust someone.

They all seemed nice at first, each and every one until they slowly began to reveal their true colors.

She continued to mull it over as she finished her cigarette the exhaled a final plume of smoke and began to walk towards the subway station, just as several light raindrops began to fall.

She was clad in a cropped Iron Maiden t-shirt and a pair of jeans, not the best clothing to wear as a storm bore down. It would be best that she got underground to the station as soon as possible then headed home before it got too bad.

"Hey! Wait!" a voice cried out, somehow louder and more direct then all the ones surrounding her.

Stopping, she turned around and sure enough, weaving through the crowded sidewalk was Tony, still wearing his apron.

Her heart quickened in her chest fearfully as he approached, a wide smile on his handsome face. She did everything she could not to turn and run, shaking slightly as he came closer then finally stopped before her, lifting his arms as he began to take off his apron.

"Amy told me you asked. I'm Tony." He extended a hand.

"Um, Holly." She took it, gripping his hand loosely then dropped it timidly, taking a step back nervously.

"Hi Holly. Listen I seen you come in a few times its taken a long time for me to work up the courage to finally talk to you but, uh-" he trailed off, scratching the back of his head nervously and Scarlett couldn't help but smile, her own nerves slipping away, surpassed by her constant need for male approval and affection.

Promiscuity, interest in older men, psychiatrists and sociologists often pointed to "daddy issues" as the problem. As a teen when Holly's parents discovered she along with some of her classmates had initiated a high-school sex ring including students and teachers, they were quick to send her to the shrink who couldn't fathom her interest in older men or her need for sex.

He also couldn't diagnose her with sex addiction. Unlike those that had an excuse, Holly simply liked sex, and she liked men. Perhaps for the constant desire to feel safe and be attractive. Being beautiful was all she ever really wanted, and being appreciated by men was what she yearned for. Although it was unintentional, Holly was certain it was the reason she took up employment in a male-dominated industry. The philharmonic boasted far more men than women, and being the youngest with a relatively high chair she captured their attention, in one way or another. She not only craved that attention, but _needed_ it.

It was the reason she stayed with Danny for so long. She was weak, she needed him, even when he whored her out, made her mule, beat her, hurt her in so many ways it simply pained her to think about.

In an instant, Holly found herself thinking about what the hell happened to her life. She was going to graduate from Juilliard, become a world-renowned cellist with sold out concerts across the globe. She would marry a fellow musician and they'd live happily, even after retirement playing beautiful music in their home.

Her life dream had been crushed and shattered, much like the rest of the people in New York. She was now a diseased freak living in a crummy apartment, unable to rise to the full potential of her talent due to the months she had spent with her drug-addled boyfriend.

"Thanks for the milkshake. Why don't we go hang out at my place, looks like it's about to rain." She smiled, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. Holly knew her suggestion was quite forward, and part of the reason she got herself into these messes. But Tony seemed to be a nice guy (like she hadn't thought that before.)

"Sounds like a deal. Where do you live?"

"East Village." She responded.

"You look like an East Village kind of girl."

"What does that mean?" Holly grinned.

"You know, you look kind of artsy and stuff. What do you do? I don't know much about you just that you like vanilla milkshakes. Every single time you always get vanilla."\

As they walked side by side Holly smiled, letting her body lean so that her arm brushed against his with each stride. Already she felt more comfortable with him than any girl should have within minutes of meeting someone.

"I'm a musician." She answered.

"Really what kind? Let me guess…bitchin' bassist? You've got the hair for a pretty hard rock chick."

"No, guess again." She giggled flirtatiously, eyeing him and subconsciously running her fingers though her choppy pixie cut, Danny's harsh insult running through her mind. Ever since her non-existent self-confidence had plummeted, and while she originally thought the haircut played well on her features, she ow wondered if it perhaps gave off the wrong message. After all, there were only so many Twiggy and Mia Farrow's out there, the rest of them couldn't quite pull it off while looking so glamorous.

"Okay…drums?"

"I don't think you're ever going to get it." She spoke truthfully, and he laughed playfully, causing her to flush as she leaned in towards him, her body language projecting her desire and eagerness to please.

"What is it something weird? Like the harp?"

"You're on the right track. I'm a cellist, New York Philharmonic."

"Jesus you're kidding! So you're like…rich and famous and stuff?!" he exclaimed.

"Not quite. I live in a shitty apartment. I make a good buck but it goes to other things and I'm definitely no famous. People have generally only heard of about three people in the entire orchestra."

"So how does a girl with a cute haircut, tattoos, under the age of 60 get a job with the New York Philharmonic. I mean I don't know much but that sounds pretty different."

"I went to Juilliard. And the hair wasn't short at the time, most of the tattoos weren't there either." Holly shrugged, jumping slightly as thunder clapped loudly across the sky, accompanied by a quick flash of lightening then what seemed to be an almost immediate downpour of ran.

Without thinking, Holly grabbed the friend of her new acquaintance and the two ran for the safety of the nearest subway station entrance, laughing like children as they sprinted down the steps, unable to escape the first few seconds of heavy rain. Running her fingers through her damp hair Holly sighed then dropped Tony's hand as she headed to buy her ticket.

They both purchased their tickets in silence, walking side by side like a comfortable couple as they waited on the platform for the train, Holly herself wondering what would occur for the rest of the day.

She wanted to take him to bed, she wanted to impress him, see if it gave him a reason to stay. Of course, as with any man her first thoughts were the scars on her body, not to mention what would happen if the shakes started again. It had occurred more than once, when Scarlett was with Danny that she would shake while they were together. In fact, it had happened the night she was raped, causing the guys to laugh and Holly herself to tremble worse than she ever had in her entire life.

"So, I don't know anything about you other than that you make good milkshakes. We've got 20 minutes to my place, enlighten me." Holly smiled as they continued to wait for the train, wrapping herself around no of Tony's arms so that her breasts rubbed against him. He glanced down, then back up at her, a noticeable twinkle in his eye.

"Well I'm sure as hell no Juilliard boy. I dropped out when I was 16, been working at the diner ever since."

"How old are you?"

"28. Just waiting for something better to come along I guess. You're getting a little close, that mean this trip to your place will be worthwhile?" he grinned, and Holly blushed, wishing one more she had her long tresses again. Instead, she could only look away and look back with a flirty grin.

"I guess you could say that." She pursed her lips, and silently shamed herself.

"Well, I can pay you back in kind. Lived down in Dallas for a couple years, partied with the kids. You ever hear of Adam?"

Holly glanced to her left as the train arrived, screeching loudly as it barreled like a bullet sent hurtling through the chamber. As a small gust of hot air blew past them and the giant mechanical serpent slowed to a halt. Holly turned to Tony, only to find him glancing back down at her with piercing eyes and the slow suggestive smirk that told her he would have no opposition to her forward behavior.

In fact, the way he looked at her told Holly that he now expected something or other later that night, and she couldn't blame him. The way she had already presented herself, asking him to come to her apartment, there was no way to get out of it now, even if she wanted to. Tony didn't seem like the type to attack, but there was no telling a good man from a bad man just from a few words.

As the doors slid open, releasing lines of people like ants onto the platform Holly stepped on, weaving through cars until she found a relatively empty one and sat down on one of the plastic orange seats, Tony coming to sit beside her. Leaning in closely, he whispered in her ear.

"So, back to what I was saying?"

Holly took a moment to remember their previous conversation then shook her head.

"No, what is that? What did you say?"

"Adam. It's…pretty cool. It'll make you fly, top of the stars. I've got a little taste, if you want to try. It'll make you feel…_really _good. I can tell you like to fly." His breathe tickled the shell of her ear and Holly glanced up at him, her face and chest flushing from the contact.

"That sounds pretty cool. And what do I owe you for a little taste?"

"We can talk about that later. First, I need to do this…" he trailed off, then put a finger under Holly's chin, pulling her close before planting a sweet kiss on her lips that she happily returned.

He pulled away just as the train began to move and Holly blushed, glancing down with a small smile as Tony bit his lip suggestively.

"I've been waiting to do that for a while." He grinned, and Holly threw her shoulders back, the transformation beginning as sexual prowess took over, and the damaged victim became the sensual hunter.

"What else have you been waiting to do?" she breathed, letting her hand graze his chest before landing below his waist, grabbing him aggressively. Tony responded with a sharp intake of breath and a chuckle as he glanced around the abandoned car, just the two of them and put an arm around her.

"Come on…" Holly trailed off the stood up, grabbing Tony by his t-shirt and pulling him towards the doors. Leaning against a pole, Holly beckoned him over with a finger then put his arms around her waist and her own hands on his chest, standing on her toes.

"Let's get off and fuck." Holly breathed pressing her lips to Tony's. He gripped her tightly then pulled away with a struggle.

"Easy there we have time for that."

"You've got a hard on already." Holly replied, pressing herself against him and indeed, feeling his hardened member through his pants. He stiffened noticeably and breathed into Holly mouth, causing her to smile. Now she was in charge. She held the power and sway. She was no longer

"You know I didn't just want to have sex with you. I-I want to get to know you."

"You're getting to know me now." She responded, then began to rub him over his pants.

Tony protested until the next stop where Holly immediately moved towards the doors, glancing back at him expectedly. She liked his nerves, the surprise he showed at her audacity. She herself was surprised at her own gall, even as they walked through the dark recesses of the subway station, before Holly opened the door to the abandoned Men's Room, pulling Tony in and locking it behind her.

Immediately, she dropped to her knees, grabbing his belt and undoing it quickly before unzipping his pants.

"Christ you're full of surprises." He chuckled nervously, and she looked up at him quietly, before pulling down his pants and grabbing him, hard, in her hands.

Her first thought as she took him in her mouth was the first time she had sex, the summer before high school. She was at a party, one of the few times she could bring herself to socialize with her peers and a game of Spin the Bottle led to a full-fledged make out party in some kid's living room.

The guy Holly had been with was a junior in high school. At the time, it never occurred to her that only a true loser would prey on freshman girls but she didn't care. She was getting attention from an older boy, a football player, even though she was a size 10 and chubbier than the other girls. She had developed early, always the source of mockery and ridicule in earlier years by boys who had not yet grown to appreciate the female body.

She was nervous, as he took her up to a bedroom and laid her down. She knew no one else would be having sex, she knew no one had even noticed them leaving. And as he peeled off her clothes, Holly was ashamed he would laugh at her body, afraid of how she would compare to the other girls he had been with.

But he said nothing, nothing at all in fact. Instead he kissed her, climbed on top of her, and pierced her with his cock so that she cried out in pain, biting her lip as the pain eventually mixed with pleasure.

He finished in a matter of minutes, leaving her on the bed in a small pool of her own blood, with a smile on her face. That was the beginning for her. The moment she realized what it felt like, and from then on, sexuality became her escape.

Holly saw him from time to time once she began high school, though he never acknowledged her. In fact, she was certain he probably forgot about the whole thing until another party, her junior year where she found him, pulled him upstairs and climbed on top of him, making him cry out she was the best he ever had.

Her second though, as she let Danny thrust in and out of her throat slowly, his reservations seemingly gone was the first time she had sex with Danny. It hadn't taken long, in fact they came back from a concert and passionately fucked against the wall of her living room. Nevertheless, he told her he didn't peg her for that type of girl.

Of course, she was different then. Stronger, more confident. The mixture of abuse, drug usage, and the disease robbed her of that, making her easy prey to Danny's control, except in bed. That was the one time she was free to do what she pleased, and the one thing she knew she was certainly good at.

Standing up, Holly wiped her swollen lips then spun around, unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them down along with her underwear, reaching back to grab Tony. He moaned, then pushed her against the wall, spreading her legs and guiding himself into her with a moan, reaching around and pulling up her shirt.

Immediately he began to thrust into her, pulling down her bra to free her breasts, grasping them roughly. Holly reached back, letting a hand grasp at his hair and kissed him roughly, her tongue exploring his mouth as she bit his lip and moaned into him.

"Harder. Fuck me like a whore." Holly breathed, and Tony obliged without question, pressing her face against the wall and grabbing her hair as he whispered into her ear, filling her with shame as she realized she was pressed against the wall of a subway bathroom, being fucked by a guy she had just met.

* * *

_Wounds healing. Junkie did decent job. I'll make my return to the streets tonight. First stop, the junkie's home, make certain she does not further violate law. _

_She has also lead me to a criminal mastermind. Daniel Gutierez, Yellow gang leader. Responsible for death of a seven-year-old in armed robbery gone awry. Junkie may lead me to him. _

_Left him alive. He will go to find her. I will return to the streets and I will see the return of justice in a city that knows none. Will begin with the junkie. Must assure she does not take advantage of my situation to further instigate criminal behavior._

Rorschach put on his face slowly, looking at himself in the mirror as the inkblots of his mask shifted endlessly. Shrugging, he tested the range of motion his arms provided in his current condition then slid on his gloves, before stepping further into the night.

It was still warm, even as the clouds above rolled and thunder roared mercilessly, pouring down hot rain onto the steaming sidewalks. People ran, shielding their heads from the moisture and Rorschach took his opportunity in the confusion to slip into the night, darting about as a creature of darkness.

He spotted her apartment building long before he reached it, and quickly scaling the fire escape of the neighboring brick apartment Rorschach crouched on the roof like a predator, glancing into the well-lit apartment he never should have known.

Her shades and windows were open, inviting the filth of the city to come, and that was exactly what Rorschach waited for.

Dear readers, between you and I, it is clear what Rorschach waited for. The opportunity to once again come in contact with her, the chance to come across the woman who saved his life and intrigued him so. She was so innocent, and so guilty at the same time he could not rid his thoughts of her, though naturally he himself could never come to terms with that himself.

Leaning over, Rorschach peered into the small apartment, the sounds of laughter trickling from the open windows over the patter of rain. As he watched, gloved fingers clutched into fists he observed as the girl stumbled into the bedroom with some guy, the two kissing and laughing, causing Rorschach's blood to momentarily soar beneath his mask.

They fell back on the bed and she stood up, pulling her shirt over her head then unzipping her pants. Like any gentleman, Rorschach knew he should look away but he could not from his perch, and continued to watch frozen as she undressed then climbed atop the young man.

The scene reminded him of seeing his mother, all those times with her company. Last night it had been the criminal. This night it was someone else. She was a whore, a junkie, she was scum, and that was that.

Watching their naked bodies twist and move through the open window, both fascinated and disgusted him. The way she arched her back, exposing her ribcage, the way he touched her breasts and suckled them as she rode him intensely, animalistically. That's exactly what the two were, animals, animals which could not control their baser instincts.

It sickened Rorschach, the way humans failed to control their bodies and urges. He suffered the impulses of the flesh as a teenager and no more, learning how to avert his attention from the filthy and immoral activities the body weakly craved for.

Vile. Repulsive. He could look no more and he turned away, hopping off the ledge and crossing the roof parallel to her apartment building. Quickly climbing a water tower, Rorschach hung off the rusty steel frame, watching the entrance to the apartment complex as he tried to rid his thoughts of the scene he had just beheld.

He knew it was a stretch that the man he sought out would return, after all these days but he waited in the rain, as thunder rumbled across the sky and lightning struck. Something within Rorschach told him the man would not be able to stay away. He would tend to his wounds, he would regroup, and he would come back. The only question was when.

Something told him tonight, and he acted on it, for his hunches were generally correct. So as the wind picked up at the rain continued to pour, Rorschach remained on the rooftop, occasionally jumping from the tower as lightning struck overhead.

* * *

Holly's ears picked up the light knock on the front door before she could question its existence. Sitting up in the bed she climbed over Tony's slumbering form, glancing at the stormy night sky above, dominated by light pollution before crawling out of the bed.

"Come back." He whimpered, half asleep and she grinned, leaning down to kiss him before grabbing a silk bathrobe and quickly covering herself.

"Someone's at the door, probably my neighbor." She said quickly.

"Leave it. Come back and cuddle me." Tony whined and Holly could not help but giggle as she placed a finger on his lips then left the room.

The knocking persisted, this time louder and she called out as she made her way down the hall to the front door.

"I'm coming cool your jets!" she exclaimed irritably, before unlocking the door only to have it pushed open, and herself thrown to the floor violently as she looked up into the glowing eyes of none other than Danny.

"Evening, bitch." He snarled then grabbed her by the neck unexpectedly and sent his fist across her jaw, before she had the slightest chance to even block or duck. Quickly, she fell to the floor as her teeth vibrated and curled into the fetal position instinctively, so overwhelmed and surprised that her instinct to stay alive remained dormant inside of her, and she quickly succumbed as Danny and his friends stormed into the apartment with baseball bats, knocking over things and roaring violently.

"What the hell is going on out here?" she heard Tony's voice and looked up, unable to warn him just as he stepped into the living room and Danny lifted a pistol, sending a bullet right through his head.

Holly could feel her blood freeze as she watched Tony's head snap back. His legs buckled, and his eyes went dim as he fell back onto the ground and without hearing herself Holly screamed at the top of her lungs, his blood spattering the wall behind and seeping onto the carpet.

"Who the fuck is this anyway? Picking up new punks now?" Danny sneered carelessly, motioning wildly then turning to Holly where she lay on the floor.

Bending down, he grasped her by her upper arm and pulled her to her feet, before pushing her onto the couch and placing the barrel of his gun against her lips which quivered as panicked tears rushed down her bright red face. Her heart pounded with fear, her legs shaking anxiously as she wondered if there was even any point in fighting. She knew that was exactly what he wanted, and if he killed Tony in cold blood, then he meant to kill her as well. Elsewise he wouldn't dare fire openly when the whole apartment could hear.

"You're going to swallow it bitch." He hissed, then grabbed Holly's jaw and pried her mouth open, before shoving the barrel between her lips so that she gagged.

The cold metal felt invasive, prying her jaw wide enough so that each choked sob caused her to gag a little.

"Stop fucking crying like it's going to save you. You're so pathetic, lucky your pussy was so good or I would've fucked you up a long time ago." Danny spat, the grabbed a lock of Holly's short hair, yanking it so that she cried and closed her eyes, blinking away the large tears that would not cease as she realized what her life had come to, and its not-so-tragic conclusion.

* * *

Rorschach crouched on the ledge just as the boy left the room in his boxers, crawling into the apartment and glancing down at the bed he had awoken in what seemed to be an eternity ago.

The cat streaked into the room, making no stub to rub against his leg and hiding under the bed, and Rorschach crouched stealthily, flexing his gloved hands just as he heard the gunshot.

The gunshot, the girl screamed, the sound of voices. His chance to get the criminal mastermind behind dozens of rapes, murders, assaults, nameless other violations of the law. He would not save the girl tonight if he had to choose, he had a target, only one man to make it out alive just so he could answer Rorschach's questions.

Growling beneath his shifting skin, our masked anti-hero snuck into the living room, watching, waiting, and observing the life of a girl whose life was about to come to an end…

* * *

**A/N: A note about Holly: when it comes to sexuality, the world seems to be split into two classifications: those who are more sexually liberated, and those who are more conservative. When it comes down to it, I think the term "slut" can essentially be used to describe her without anger or upset at the term, for the reason: she relies on sex and other people for comfort. I wouldn't say she's necessarily a sex addict, she just seeks her comfort in sexuality, just as others do in family, as some do in drugs, etc. This is a really complex character, which will continue to unravel throughout the story. You'll find she's kind, possesses at least some strength, and can really be quiet funny, to rival her downfalls of weakness, dependence, and pretty much an unwillingness to fight for herself. Hope you all enjoy the chapter, hope to see you soon!**


	4. Scene (Allegro moderato)

**A/N: I DO NOT own any part of **_**Watchmen**_**. Was just wondering if anyone was still interested in this, but I caught a review so here you go! Can get kind of discouraging. With all the hype dead surrounding the film, I never expected big success with this story. At least not until some half-assed Hollywood sequel shows up, or **_**Before Watchmen**_** gains a little popularity. I still got more reviews originally when I did this on my second account, so as you can understand I sometimes have my doubts, particularly since it takes so long for me to update. So thanks for sticking around, I hope you all continue to!**

**Scene (Allegro moderato)**

Rorshach stared intently at the corpse of the young man strewn out before him, blood pooling into the carpet around his head like some sort of nightmarish halo. The red stickiness seeped into the fibers of the carpet, small spurts shooting out to cover the small clots of skull and brain matter spattered across the surrounding area.

His eyes were wide open, face frozen in an expression of surprise. Rorschach had watched him and the junkie throughout the night, fraternizing in her bedroom, biting, touching, licking. He had seen against his wishes the boy climb on top of her, thrusting intensely in a way reminiscent of how he would come across Sylvia as a child.

And here he was now, dead. Glancing down at his pale arms, Rorschach noted the scar, old track marks, a junkie just like the other one.

_A fate deserved? Perhaps too harsh, but takes one off the street nonetheless. _Rorschach thought bitterly, then turned his attention to the fray that continued to unfold before him. The girl with a gun in her mouth, sobbing weakly as the man he had been after so long spat insults at her.

"…You're just lucky I have to make this quick, else I'd fuck you up so you'd wish you were dead. Should've just done what I told you Holly."

"Danny man we gotta go." Came another voice, and Rorschach stared at her girl. Her face was bright red as she gagged on the heavy metal jammed into her mouth. Each wracking sob brought forth both disgust and the smallest inkling of pity within Rorschach's stony heart. She pumped the drugs into her own veins and spent time with the lowest of the low. She had brought herself here by her own doing. He had learned long ago there was a very fine line between black and line that was not to be crossed.

But she emitted the smallest glow of innocence, as if trying to break free of the vile corruption that bound her. She reminded him of the woman he never met all those years ago, the woman who had died and given him his new face.

Kitty Genovese gave Rorschach a beginning, and Blair Roche breathed him new life. As the girl sat on her knees, eyes squeezed shut tightly as she waited for her execution, Rorschach was reminded of the crime all those years ago and the way it had changed them. The people that had watched and waited, taking no responsibility as Kitty Genovese died.

She was a junkie. She deserved to be in jail, just like the corpse on the floor. But to be killed? Execution style by a murderous Hispanic attempting to become a drug-lord? Rorschach didn't believe in mercy, but he did believe in justice.

_For Genovese. Do it for Genovese_. He thought darkly, then darted through the living room, convincing himself he was doing it for the dead woman. Peering around the couch, Rorschach quickly tried to formulate a plan as someone began to bang on the front door loudly.

"Holly?! Holly is everything alright in there? I called the police!" a voice called out, and two of the thugs pointed their guns at the door, shooting carelessly as a scream echoed on the other side. The voice sounded familiar, but Rorschach knew he couldn't have known the person.

The voice ceased, and Rorshach took the opportunity to sneak around the couch, pulling out his grappling gun and aiming it carefully.

He needed to make certain that when he attacked his target, his finger did not slip on the trigger, sending the junkie's brain splattered across the floor like her friend. It was a tricky situation, the way he had his gun jammed into her mouth with his finger on the trigger. The slightest movement would be the end of her life, and Rorschach had no room for mistake.

He needed a distraction, not an incapacitation. Turning, Rorschach set his sights on a new target and shot his gun, letting it catch around the ankle of one of Gutierez's goons, yanking the man to the ground as he emitted a loud yelp of confusion and pain. As expected, everyone turned, gazing down out him and Rorschach sprang forward, incapacitating him quickly, then turned his attention to Daniel Gutierez.

As planned, the greasy-haired thug removed the gun from the junkie's mouth and she remained in the spot, staring at him wildly through teary eyes like a dumb deer, stuck in the headlights. Rorschach wanted to hit her on the back of the head for the way she remained in a trance instead of running and hiding like she should've, but he couldn't draw attention to her. Not until he dispatched the man he was after.

"Not this fucker again. You fucking him too Holly?!" Gutierez screamed arrogantly, face bright red and contorted with ferocity. Snapping his head back sharply, he stopped, glancing around to find that Holly was no longer there. Indeed, she had finally found her mind and crept away when both he and Rorschach weren't looking.

"Take care of him, quick. We gotta get outta here you heard that guy say he called the cops." Gutierez then barked, peering around the couch as his crew rushed towards Rorschach at once. Without so much as a second thought, Rorschach began to dispatch them all one by one, as quickly as he could despite the protest in his shoulder. Then men were supposed to be soldiers, proving nothing more than pathetic children parading around in shoes much too big for them. Street kids, drug addicts, low-life criminals. They weren't muscle for hire. They were the lowest of the low, and Rorschach took them each in stride even with his injury.

Much to his surprise, he found himself winded after a short while and turned to find Gutierez had disappeared, though he knew he could not have left. Knocking the last crony unconscious, Rorshach leaped over the dead body of the boy once more then followed a path down the carpeted hall as he heard voices. Turning into the semi-familiar bedroom that he knew a bit too well, he found Holly standing in the center of the room with a gun in her hands, pointing it shakily at the gang leader in the doorway.

"What you're going to shoot me? You pathetic cow you can't even say no to me!"

"Shut up Danny!" she exclaimed through bright red eyes and Rorschach remained where he stood, both interested in how the situation would play out, and pushed for time. The cops would appear any moment, and undoubtedly twist the story for the press that Rorschach had slain everyone including the boy in some sort of maniacal outbreak.

They'd pay off the girl to keep her mouth shut, just enough for her to buy her precious drugs and disappear from the limelight, only to turn up dead after ODing somewhere in the city.

"You can't do anything. Like you couldn't say no when I got every single one of the guys to fuck you. Like you couldn't say no when I cut you. You couldn't say no when I told you to sell to those kids. You're weak and used up you pathetic bitch." He spat, striding forward.

Almost as if in slow motion, Rorschach watched as the girl's finger pulled the trigger several times, sending bullets flying into Gutierez's body. He reeled backwards, blood spurting from the wounds and streaking the walls and carpet as he stumbled back for a moment, then crumpled to the floor, two feet away from where Rorschach stood.

The gunshots rang in his ears, an unwelcome explosion unsuited for human ears. Glancing down at the body, a whimper stole Rorschach's attention and he looked over at the girl Holly as she fell to the ground, trembling violently and let out a long, pained scream.

* * *

Holly stared out her open front door, watching as the EMTs covered Mr. James' body with a white sheet before turning her attention to the responder caring for her.

"I'm fine." She said, yanking her arm out of the woman's hand before wrapping them around herself. The woman said something then threw up her hands in frustration, walking away and leaving Holly to once more eye the red stain and chunks on her carpet where Tony's head had previously been.

All around her apartment, cops mulled about, taking note, taking pictures, and removing bodies, but it was Holly who would be left to clean up the mess. She had definitively decided she would not stay another day in the apartment. The problem of course would be cleaning up and finding another place to stay before she could leave New York altogether.

"Now, let's just review this one more time. Daniel Gutierez and his friends came in here and threatened you, Rorschach came in, took care of these guys, they shot your neighbor over there then you killed Gutierez in the bedroom. How did he get in?"

Holly glanced up at the detective, and hard blonde man by the name of Fine who persistently questioned her about Rorschach more than her assault. She had no choice but to reveal he was there. Even Holly knew the police would piece together the puzzle quicker than she could create a plausible excuse.

But she didn't know where he was, and could give an honest answer on that. Though if she did, there was no way she would tell the police. So far he had saved her life twice now, and Holly felt nothing short of indebted to him.

Even as she hugged a blanket tightly to her frame she couldn't help but think back to the situation in her bedroom after she killed Danny.

_She shook ferociously, rocking back and forth as bile climbed in her throat. Barely aware of the masked hero in the doorway Holly lifted her head and screamed: the only thing she could do. Feeling heavy tears roll down her face she stared at Danny's lifeless body, expecting him to spring back up at any moment. He couldn't be dead. Not the man who said he would live forever. _

_A soft mass of fur brushed against her, accompanied by the quietest of mews as Socks peered from under the bed, but Holly paid no mind, still frozen where she was. _

"He…there was a knock at the door…and I went to open it and they all came in." Holly answered in a dead voice, feeling completely empty inside.

_Her silent savior moved across the room quickly, inching towards the window and Holly found it within herself to speak, voice cracked as it passed through a thick throat. _

"_P-p-please. The p-pills. On the desk." She managed, unable to stand up on legs guaranteed to give out. She heard Rorschach shift behind her and closed her eyes. She was overcome with fatigue, so great she felt she would slump over at that very moment and collapse on the floor. _

"_I have Parkinson's. The pills…please." Holly choked out._

"Ms. Abraham are you aware of the history of Danny Gutierez? I mean, we've been after the guy for months. He's a known violent criminal with a history of assault and abuse, not to mention a slip on trafficking charges, possession, attempted-"

"Give it a rest Joe. Look, you got someplace to stay tonight?" Detective Fine asked, and Holly shook her head sullenly, glancing down at the floor. She had no one, and nobody. Nowhere to go, nothing to do.

_Holly grasped the gloved hand tightly as he dropped the pills into her mouth. Forcing herself to swallow without freezing and choking she gripped onto his arm tightly as the pill went down, not wanting to be left alone, even as the sirens grew louder. _

"No relatives? Friends?"

"No. Nobody." Holly shook her head as the haunting realization that she was completely alone in the world dawned no her.

"Well…I guess we can find you a hotel to stay at for a bit. Until you can get back in here. Anyone we can call for you?" the detective pried even further and Holly shook her head, before clearing her throat.

"My sister lives with my aunt. Our parents died…I don't have anyone I know here it was just me."

"We'll need you to come down to our precinct tomorrow." The other detective butted in, whose name Holly knew as "Joe" and she could not help but glare at him. After all she had been through he threw around implications and insults, questioning her at every turn and even stated she had brought the situation upon herself, much to the horror of both Holly and his partner.

And so for the next hour Holly let herself sit on the couch miserably, horrific images playing in her head as she recounted over and over again what had happened, and reliving the nightmare, one moment at a time.

* * *

**Rorschach's Journal, **_**June 25**__**th**__**, 1982**_

_City lost one more monster last night. Daniel Gutierez, growing crime lord hurts no one any longer. Not dead by my hand but dead nevertheless. The streets will have some peace though a new breed of filth will soon arise to take his place. Mumbles this evening or his replacement. Yellow Gang seeks to rebuild but cannot be allowed. Grumbles in the night told of plans to elect a new leader then seek final vengeance on the junkie, Holly. Something I cannot allow. _

_She is weak. Broken. Pathetic. Powerless to fight for self but has some strength. Parksinson's. Not much known about the disease. Points to unjustifiable reason for drug use, still does not lessen guilt or make usage acceptable. Still commits crime, and must pay the price. _

_Must find more of involvement in dealing. Gutierez made comments, her face said more. But tonight I have taken respite from the whiles of Daniel Gutierez and found solace in the face of corruption. Bringing the reality of the NYPD to light, atrocities committed by officers. Gang rape of teenage girl. She will no longer fear the night, for I have persecuted her vile offenders. _

_Dawn beckons. Tired. More tired than ever before. Will visit Nite Owl for further analysis on shoulder wound which itches persistently. For now much avoided sleep calls me._

Rorschach slammed his journal shut, staring up at the ceiling of his shabby apartment. Closing his eyes, he felt a faint breeze touch the pale skin of his true mask, the face that once belonged to Kovacs. Rolling over, he clutched the dingy sheets of his mattress then allowed himself to close his eyes.

He did not like to sleep, but fatigue overpowered his protests as he struggled to keep heavy eyelids open. After several moments he gave up fighting like a child and allowed himself to fall into slumber, sinking into nightmares that resurrected the long-dead Walter, making Rorschach feel as vulnerable a person as he had in his life.

He awoke to the sounds of persistent banging on his door, accompanied by the voice of Doloras Shairp, a woman he loathed just as much as the scum her dealt with night after knight.

"Open up this door!" she exclaimed, and Rorschach climbed out of his bed, slipping into a pair of pants as he listened carefully. Gazing at the stream of light on the other side of the door he could make out not one shadow, but too, and as he took a moment to listen her heard the faint murmur of another voice.

"I ain't doing anything for you. This perv owes me rent." Shairp snapped at the mystery speaker then began to bang on Rorschach's door again, this time so violently he curled his fists as he tried to control his anger. Doloras Shairp was nothing but an atrocious child-abusing miscreant who reminded him endlessly of Sylvia, and anything that reminded Rorschach of Sylvia was not something he approved of.

Opening the door, he stopped shortly, frozen in his tracks as he caught sight of the woman standing several feet before Shairp. She had choppy brown hair and large doe eyes, framed with thick lashes which pointed down at full pink lips. Her olive skin was flushed red, and Rorshach almost unintentionally slammed the door as he found himself staring at none other than the girl named Holly.

It didn't make sense. He didn't believe in coincidence, and it was not only improbable but impossible for her to show up at his doorstep, out of all the apartments in New York. Not without her knowing. But how could she have known? And who could she have told?

"Where's my rent?!" Shairp suddenly barked, and Rorschach glanced at her, a steady frown on his face as his eyes continuously shot back to the girl who looked around awkwardly. For a moment, she cast a fleeting glance at Rorschach and his heartbeat quickened before she looked away, as though she had not the faintest clue of who he was.

"Not due for three days." He finally responded, continuing to observe the girl from the corner of his eye. He had to do something. The minute Shairp left he would force her to tell him how she knew where he lived and what she wanted.

"I can collect whenever I please. Let me guess, you doing have it? You filthy-"

"-I'm sorry to interrupt but do you think I could have the key now? It's just the cat, he's getting a little irritated. I should get him inside." The junkie broke in, and for a moment Rorschach almost jumped in front of her, forgetting who she was as Shairp cast such a fierce glare at the girl she shrunk back.

"That thing leaves your apartment I'm calling Animal Control you hear? I want that rent Kovacs." Shairp cast a last glance at him then tottered down the hall with the girl in tow who gave him a last look of unmistakable pity before leaning down and picking up the cat. As Rorschach watched, she walked down to hall, two doors down where Shairp stuck a key into the door and opened it, the two disappearing inside.

Quietly, Rorschach stared after, his face still frozen in an expression of awe. Glancing around, he looked down at his watch to observe the time. He had slept most of the day away, a travesty. Night would arrive within the passage of several hours, and Rorschach would prowl the streets, but tonight he had a bigger mission. He would confront Holly and demand to know who she had found him. Such information didn't come by chance, meaning she had to be working with someone, relying on his brief unsubstantiated pity to allow her to live.

They had been counting on his weakness, and proved to be a keen and cunning opponent. But Rorschach would fall victim to no one. He would discover the truth behind the girl who so decidedly entered into his life, more than likely seeking to end his career as a wanted vigilante. And for what?

_Money. Drug money. Perhaps avoidance of jail time from police. Or maybe working with Yellow Gang. Offs Daniel Gutierez to secure a place for herself and new lover. All that's left is to tie up loose ends-Rorschach. _He thought to himself bitterly, then slammed the door to his shabby apartment closed, pacing the room quietly as he formulated a plan.

* * *

"Hello, Holly? Holly Abrams?

"This is she." Holly answered the phone, setting it on her lap as she rested cross-legged on the floor of her new apartment, surrounded by boxes of junk which absolutely would not fit.

To say the place was a downgrade was an understatement. Holly didn't need the in-person eviction notice from her landlord to decide she was going to leave, however. After spending an uncomfortable night in the only hotel the NYPD would afford her, she decided to pack up her things and let maintenance worry about the blood that stained her carpets and walls.

The search for a new place to live came down to who could house her immediately at the cheapest price. Boxes cost money, as well as the steadily increasing price of her medication. With each passing day, Holly wondered if she should just call her aunt, pack up, and go home. She would find a full-time job there to make ends meet, at least until she came up with something better.

Of course, moving back home would require Holly to inform her aunt of her situation. And that would involve revealing her sordid past in the city (as if her aunt couldn't tell). And as a result, Holly would find herself in some rehabilitation facility sitting beside former addicts who would jump at the site of a fix. And Holly would join them, riding the up and down roller coaster of sobriety and relapse. In the end, her life would be even more of an unmitigated disaster than it was at the moment.

"Hello Holly, it's Vladensik Dharevski. I was wondering if you could join us for a sectional tomorrow afternoon. There's a few things we need to cover before upcoming rehearsal."

Holly paused, glancing across the room at her cello case. In the haze of the past few days she had completely forgotten about her real job, one that she was more than likely going to lose in the future. The very thought of carrying to giant case just outside the apartment building warned of attack and robbery, there was no doubt about it. Quite frankly, Holly was uncertain she felt safe leaving the safe haven her new apartment afforded her.

Even with a menacing landlady and less than friendly neighbors, she was willing to accept her new life as what it was: a new life. She was never well suited for the orchestra anyway, surrounded by middle-aged artists who boasted wealth and shunned mediocrity.

"No I-I don't think I can make it. Sorry." Holly said resolutely, before hanging up the phone, not allowing her first chair leader to speak any further. Setting the heavy rotary phone on the floor once more Holly glanced out her tiny apartment as a full moon emerged from several whispy clouds.

A small mew attracted her attention as Socks, her longtime friend and companion rubbed himself against her arm, coaxing a small snuggle. Picking up the tuxedo cat, Holly held him tightly and pressed her lips to his small head.

Socks was a living and breathing animal, perhaps the only thing Holly felt she had control of in her life. Every morning he awoke beside her, begging for a meal, and every night he came to her expectedly for dinner. They had come across one another during Holly's early days in the city. While taking an extremely-interesting stroll through St. Mark's place, Holly came across an off-colored gent with pink hair, tattoos and piercings, a trenchcoat, and a litter of newborn kittens.

From that day own, Socks became Holly' leading man, companion, and child all in one. Having something to take care of gave her the smallest sense of independence and pride, even if Socks could jump out the window every day and survive as a street cat (not that he ever would).

Beneath her hand, his dark body vibrated as the cat purred and scratched behind Socks' ears tenderly, just as a series of sharp raps sounded through the door.

Immediately, Holly jumped up, squeezing the cat so tight he screeched and leaped from her arms with his tail upright. Tuning and staring at the door, she reached for the handgun sitting beside her (which she now kept closer than ever) and walking across the room slowly, making for the front door.

"Who is it?" She called out, hoping it wouldn't be the terror of a landlady Holly knew she would have problems with in the future.

There was no answer, and Holly hesitated, pulling back the hammer of the gun. With shaky hands, she walked slowly to the door, standing on her toes and inhaling before attempting to glance through the peephole which had been blocked off by something, more than likely a hand.

Unlocking the door slowly, Holly opened it a crack and peered out to find herself staring into the icy blue eyes of the man she had seen earlier when moving in. What had his name been? Carlyle? Caleb? Something she couldn't remember, but as she glanced into his icy eyes her heart was filled with a mild unease.

"Is there something you need?" she asked cautiously as the red-headed man glared at her.

He said nothing, only remained stony-faced before launching a full assault against the door, kicking it open so that Holly was sent flying back. For a moment she froze in confusion then managed to throw her weight onto it just as he stuck one leg in the door. Pressing it against him harshly she smashed his leg between the door as hard as possible, watching as he grunted and winced, trying to wedge his tiny frame from the trap.

"I'm don't have any money now go or I'll call the cops!" she hissed, but the man only grunted as he tried to free himself, causing Holly to open the door slightly, allowing herself only the slightest remorse. Immediately, she found this to be a mistake as the man once again tried to make his way in, and this time lunged with teeth bared as Holly slammed the door when he was more than halfway in.

"Who told you?!" he growled in a low voice and Holly glanced back at the dark apartment, wondering what weapons she could improvise with. A frying pan, of course. And there were knives.

"I told you I don't have anything!" she exclaimed.

"WHO?!" he then barked, eyes bulging and Holly used everything she could, letting out a loud scream as she slammed her body into his own, sending both of them out into the hall then drew her gun, aiming it carefully.

"Look I don't know who you are or what you want but I've had enough of people's shit. Come back in my apartment and I'll shoot." She spat in a mixture of fury, fright, and surprise. Suddenly, rage, which should have been playing a part all along took over and Holly found herself willing and ready to defend herself. She wouldn't be the pitiful damsel anymore. Rorschach wouldn't be here to save her anymore, now, it was time to fend for herself.

The man said nothing, and Holly retreated into her apartment, never turning her back before slamming the door shut. She made a mental note to put more locks on the door and quickly set to the task of moving things in front of the door, making a small barricade as she wondered how many other robbers and rapists lived around her.

Lighting a candle, she took a seat back on the floor and grabbed her backpack, pulling out her journal which sat near the surface.

_**June 25**__**th**__**, 1982**_

_I think I've decided. I can't do it any longer. Some crazed asshole just tried to break in, asking me how I knew about something. Probably strung out on drugs, I know it too well. And he smelled like he hadn't bathed in months. I knew when I saw this place it wouldn't be good, but what other option have I got? Everything extra went into that security deposit which is gone. I have to quit the orchestra. _

_I'm going to go home. I'll call my aunt, tell her I need some help. Get some money for a flight and be all set. I promised I'd never go back and now I'm running there. But what choice do I have? Wait to get attacked again by someone else this time? I pissed off a lot of people. Got an innocent guy killed. It's not safe here anymore, not in a place where I'm so vulnerable. _

_Two times, Rorschach was there to save me. The man they call the most dangerous person in the city, and it was he who saved my life. Who knows, maybe he is a crazy killer. But I'll always be grateful for what he did. Even if it was sparing my shitty existence. He's probably out right now, patrolling the streets and giving some other guys the business, and I hope he keeps at it. This city is swimming with vermin that must be eradicated. _

_I've never been this alone in my life. I'm supposed to go back to work in two days. No way in hell that's going to happen. How can I go about selling people coffee when any one of them could be the next to follow me home and try and end my life? I'm afraid. I'm weak. I'm pathetic. Every noise I hear I'm certain it's someone coming to avenge Danny. He was the only one I had to protect me. Funny how that turned out. _

_It's just me and the cat. I'll have to leave him behind, unless I can give him to my sister. She's always wanted a pet. For now, I'll take the pills and I'll sleep. Sleep until this life is over and I can awaken for the next. _


End file.
